The prodigal kitty returns.

Or, more accurately, is forced to return.

A couple months ago my cat Stormy (of eleven years) disappeared. We assumed that he went off alone to die. Everyone dies alone. We mourned his loss, and, with great difficulty, moved on. We still had another cat to live for. Moose needed us.

Anyway. Recently my mother has been claiming to have seen Stormy wandering about. Naturally I thought this was complete and utter nonsense. "Stormy is dead" I tell her. "You are merely hallucinating him because you miss him so much" I say. It was the only logical explanation.

Until today.

Mom: You know how Stormy is dead to you?

Me: Yes.

Mom: Well, I saw him or a look-alike cat today and I brought him home.

Cat-napped.

So it appears to really be him. Moose would never cuddle with anyone else. (Mom was saying that it had to be Stormy because Moose didn't do anything mean to him when they were reunited. I said that Moose doesn't have the right to be mean to anyone as he doesn't have any front claws.)

This is not a democracy, this is a happy dictatorship.

I got this precious gem from my father, thanks dad.

Anyway, the Brown Couch votes have been tallied. Alas and alack it appears that the general (limited) public believes that Devin will be the first to marry and therefore claim the brown couch. Whatever. Clearly, the public is flawed. Obviously, I will win. With my charm and good looks how could I not?

But there is just one question that was on my mind throughout this Brown Couch poll extravaganza: Who in the world is voting for Devin?

Seriously.

Not that I don't love Devin. I do. He is a cool-cat like unto myself. But, seriously?

So Devin-voters it is time to come clean. Please enlighten me on why you voted for Devin. Doing so will help decrease your shame, though it can never be entirely erased.

Turn and Draw.

The winner of my 100th post drawing is

Miss Lindsay

A most lovely girl with whom I love to drink juice.

Lindsay, your package will be winding its way to you very soon. And to everyone else, thank you for reading. I love you.

Gamble everything for love.

Today I made a bet with Kimberlyn. She wanted hot chocolate. My mother had already told her that breakfast was over and that she wasn't going to make anything else. So I told her "I will make you a bet. If you can get mom to make you hot chocolate I will buy you a cookie when we go to Great Harvest today, if she doesn't make you hot chocolate then you have to scratch my back". I lost.

Also, today I ate (half) a grapefruit for breakfast. Which I have never actually done before. And I even sort of liked it. Which is weird because 1) I am an extremely picky eater and 2) I only ever eat toast or cheerios without milk for breakfast. As a rule.

And it was so pretty.

And it reminded me of pink lemonade. Which brings me to the question: Do pink lemons actually exist? Or is pink lemonade just a lie?

What she's doing now

My boots came. Early. Excitement abounds. This prima donna is ready for another rodeo.

Eveything's gonna get lighter, even if it never gets better.

Today was, quite simply, awesome. And, I mean, it's not even six yet. Let's discuss the reasons:

1) I got my Barnes and Noble package today. That alone guarantees an excellent day.

2) I ate pretty much half a loaf of jalapeno cheddar bread. With cream cheese. It was delicious. I do not regret it in the slightest.

3) A Down East miracle. Just for me. There's this shirt I really love at Down East. Except for the part where it is this awful yellow-green-puke color. That I cannot abide. So today while I am hard at work organizing clearance I come upon the shirt in a soft dusky grey. Just one. In my size. Apparently it very randomly arrived in our shipment yesterday. So of course I bought it. (Along with a new super cute purse. Which I actually needed because my old one was falling apart.)

4) I got a postcard and a letter in the mail today. And both were a complete surprise.

5) I didn't shower today and yet my hair still looks fairly decent.

6) This is my 100th blog posting.

So in order to reward you, my loyal readers (all three of you), and to spread the love, happiness, and good days around I have decided to have a give-away. All you have to do is comment. Tell me something that made you happy today. A week from today I will have a drawing containing the names of everyone who commented. The winner will receive a small surprise package from me.

I love you.

Lying on the floor.

Clive has taken to chasing me. As a method of torture, I think, because he knows that I prefer to love him from a distance.

On Saturday night I had to scramble up onto our dining room table in order to evade him. He then proceeded to circle me like a shark, leaving me with no means to escape.

I cannot suppress a little scream every time he sneaks up on me.

Today was absolute insanity. He was pursuing me like never before. Running. Sliding. Jumping. Things would end badly. I could feel it. I felt it as I leapt over his wriggling body crouched before me. I felt it as I dashed to the kitchen with him on my tail (no, the irony is not lost on me). I felt it as I reached for a stool so as to fend him off.

Unfortunately, I tripped on said stool and somehow managed to ram it into our refrigerator with an ear-splitting crack, while also managing to do a half-somersault in the air, hit both of my knees on goodness knows what, and land on my back.

Things ended badly.

The good news is that the stool, in a twisted sort of way, achieved the desired effect. Clive was frightened by the sound and ran away. So I could lay on the floor in peace. Also, I wasn't seriously hurt. So I guess that's good news, as well.

And Melissa got a good laugh. After she was certain I was alright, anyway. Which was really nice of her, I thought.
Melissa: Are you okay?
Me: (between ragged laughter that could have be mistaken as sobbing) Yes, I'm fine.
Melissa: Are you sure? I thought that your face hit the fridge and made that sound.
Me: (more laughter) No, that was the stool. I'm okay.
Melissa: Are you sure? Because if you're not really hurt I'm going to start laughing now.

So my body is slightly more bruised, especially my knees, but that is nothing new, really. And I have learned a valuable lesson: clumsy people should not try to outrun dogs that are faster than them. Things will end badly no matter what. At least if you hold your ground and get taken out by the dog you look like slightly less of an idiot. You may even look a little bit brave. But by running and taking yourself out there is no red badge of courage, only the red of shame in your cheeks.

Lesson learned.